Rain of Memories
by potato-theif
Summary: A collection of one-shots that didn't seem to fit anywhere else. Mostly angst. Most Definitely Angst.
1. Rain of Memories

**A/N:** It was raining, and I was angsting... this is thr product of that plus three hours of furious page flipping. A lot is taken directly from the manga.. ;; (thanks to evil genius and toriyamas world for translating!) Apparently, I happened to be lucky and managed to nab the .zip file off the before they took them off the server. So I now have manga-ness through Ch 34.

I managed to make this pairing (and thus pain!) FREE! It's a miracle I swear.

don't own hagaren, cept some chapters of manga and the video game.. but I don't think that counts

* * *

**Rain of Memories**

* * *

Edward moved, and his automail creaked. There was only one thing that caused his artificial limbs to make odd noises… 

He pulled back the curtain violently and saw what he had feared. It had begun to rain, and it was pouring. By now, it had become so loud that most people would have heard it, but Ed had been screaming at something (no one really wanted to know, although they could guess) for at least the last fifteen minutes.

* * *

Rain had always left him in a sour mood, and it brought back painful memories. Images flashed through his mind. 

He was sitting on the stairs outside the military building, shivering and cold in the rain, hoping desperately that no one would see his tears. Al was sitting beside him, and he was sure that he would have been crying too if he could have. The Colonel walked up to him and asked him how long he planned to sulk. Infuriated by Mustang's lack of emotion he stood up and began to scream at him. "WE'RE HUMAN BEINGS!" he lashed out uncontrollably, not even trying to hide his tears or emotions anymore. "AND WE COULDN'T EVEN SAVE ONE LITTLE GIRL…!" he lost his energy and said softly, "Insignificant human beings…." His voice trailed off into the distance.

He remembered the nightmare he had had so long ago, and it still haunted him to this day. "Mother, mother!" he pictured the dream in his mind, seeing the smile on his mother's face when he had brought her another gift that he had transmuted for her. Every time, she patted him on the head and said, "Thank you. You're really wonderful, Ed, to make such a perfect object, but.." and every time, blood began to come out of her mouth, and she would say, "But you couldn't make me right.." before she fell the ground, lifeless. Every time, he would wake up suddenly, sweating, tossing, breathing heavily, struggling for air to breathe, looking for a will to live.

He had been sitting in the rain in front of the clock when he had first realized what an idiot he was. "Alchemy is the knowledge, analysis and recreation of the laws and currents that exist between substances" was what Al had told him that he had thought alchemy was. He remembered replying bitterly, "The world spins by these laws. People dying is also a part of those currents. Embrace the currents." They had been told that by sensei many times over. He had thought that he understood, but back then… he remembered the feeling of regret that washed over him. "And now…" he had said "now, I'm starting to think whether I could have done something about something I can't do anything about…. I am such an idiot…" He hadn't improved a bit since that time. He had thought that the rain would wash off some of his sadness, but every drop that hit his face just made him more and more depressed. He looked at Al, and realizing that he couldn't even feel the rain on his skin, howit must hurt. It was then that hehad decided that he was going to restore their bodies, whether or not it meant doing something as hopeless as going against the currents of the world.

* * *

It was in the rain that he had almost failed his goal before it had started. In the rain, his arm was destroyed completely, and in the rain, Al had almost died. The rain… so painful… But it was also in the rain when his friends had come to his aid; Hawkeye, Armstrong, Havoc, and even Mustang, though it was quite a stretch for Ed to call him his friend. 

And it was the first time that he could ever remember Al hitting him. His words rang through his ears like his brother was standing right there in front of him. "I'LL SAY IT AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN!" Al had screamed at him while grabbing him by the collar. "YOU MIGHT FIND A WAY TO RESTORE OUR BODIES IF YOU SURVIVE AND LEARN MORE ABOUT ALCHEMY…!" he had never seen Al this mad in all his life. "AND YOU MIGHT EVEN FIND A WAY TO SAVE A POOR GIRL LIKE NINA!" Al had stared him directly in the eyes. "BUT HOW COULD YOU TOSS AWAY THAT POSSIBILITY AND PICK DEATH? I ABSOLUTELY WON'T FORGIVE YOU IF YOU DO THAT!"

But the rain… the rain brought back a pleasant memory as well; memories of Rush Valley – and Winry. She had been so calm delivering Sadila's baby, like she actually knew what she was doing. He had seen the miracle of childbirth, and all he could think about was alchemy, and how over centuries even alchemists couldn't produce life. He was so blinded by his one goal, his driving force, his desire to exist, to be whole again, to have a purpose.

Come to think of it… it was raining when sensei had first showed up too. It was pouring that night, the hardest rainfall in sixty years, some said. Mysteriously, Izumi had showed up and saved the town using her alchemy. Yes… it was raining when this whole mess had begun… and it had been raining ever since. Rain… where this all started… in the wretched, cold, wet rain. And he had a bad feeling that that is where it would end. Alone, in the dark and cold rain of his heart, he knew.

Suddenly, he thought of the island –Jack Island, was it? –where they had begun their 'training';it was so long that he couldn't remember the name. But he remembered the rain. The desperate struggle to stay alive, and how everything was connected to alchemy. _Al, you and I are both small parts of that flow of life. We are a part of it. The entire universe is formed from all the parts coming together. We are all living according to countless universal rules. Destroying and rebuilding objects according to those 'rules'. Is this what we call "Alchemy"?_

The flow of life… the rising and falling tide of generations gone past. Death, as it is commonly said, is a part of life. Hadn't he once told someone to stand up and move on? After all, they had two perfect legs to stand on… He would never let himself forget that, for his sake, and everyone else's….

* * *

Roy could hear the steadily increasing intensity of the rain. Rain… he hated the rain. He tried to suppress the memories connected with the horrible weather, but they kept on playing over and over in his head like a scary movie, except that that was real. It had happened, and he would never forgive himself for it. He remembered the feeling, his hand, gloved, ready to snap, ready to burn the life out of an innocent person, ready to kill. The fear and hesitation of the moment, and the remorse and guilt and heavy weight on his conscience that remained. He tried furiously to stop thinking about it, burying himself in his desk covered with paperwork. 

The rain. Always the damned rain. Agonizing, the sound of it on the roof. Unstoppable feelings, uncontrollable images flew through his mind. The rain… the FullMetal brat and his brother had almost died in the rain… and he was there, and unable to help them. Just another painful weight on a conscience already saturated with the immense weight of guilt. Another bystander, a victim of fate. But the world was cruel, and the property known as 'equivalent exchange' was the one supreme rule, or so it seemed. _Death is a part of life…_

His mind brought him to Hughes' grave. The bastard. How was he supposed to help raise him to the top when he was already a rank higher than him? He smiled slightly at his somewhat-inside joke with Hughes, him being alive to hear it or not. Come to think of it… yes. There was no escaping the rules, no escaping the rain. It had rained, hard, steady and long, days and days after the funeral. Piercing, biting, stinging, grief-laden rain and tears of regret.

He felt the rain begin to intensify. He couldn't show any emotion though. He had an image to keep up; stoic, unfeeling, a master of facial expression and a manipulative bastard. It was the one thing that kept him from falling apart completely, and he considered this. He really was such a weak, lost person, and he doubted that anything could help him. Choking back a few tears that he felt rising to his eyes, he got up suddenly and stormed out of the room. The damned paperwork could wait. He needed to go home… in the rain. The never-ceasing rain.

As he walked out, he passed by FullMetal, who was staring out a window at the rain, mesmerized, lost in thought, his eyes glossed over like he was a statue. Roy let out a carefully controlled, knowing kind of smile. If there was one thing that they would ever see eye to eye on, it was the rain.

* * *

gomen...Blame the angst... X.x... 


	2. Cry for the Sun

Formerly a chapter in one of my other fics. Didn't fit, so now it's a one shot.

* * *

What was that sound? Things had been so peaceful since the Elric brothers had left, well, since FullMetal had left. He wasn't used to the sound of yelling and random explosions anymore, and he jumped a little at the noise. He figured that as the ranking official around here that he should go make sure that nothing important was damaged… but decided against it.

He remembered the last time he had made that fatal decision, he had ended up being humiliated by a fifteen-year-old midget and had spent a week in the hospital. He had spent weeks picking the splinters of the chairs out of the staff room walls, and the construction of rebuilding the north wing _still_ wasn't complete. And on top of all that, he had sent the little brat into a breakdown of some sort, and Hawkeye _still_ laughed slightly when the name FullMetal came up. But a little voice kept on telling him that FullMetal wasn't even here anymore, so why should he be afraid to check out what was going on?

As soon as he had found the source of the disturbance all he could think was _Damn Logic!_ Apparently, he was wrong… he looked on in horror as the boys destroyed yet another section of his building. There was no mistaking them for anyone else… well, there was no mistaking _FullMetal_ for anyone else, and anyone that had half a brain could tell that the other person was his brother.

_Wait…They gotten their bodies back?_

It was quite obvious that Al had been restored… one glance would confirm that.

He stood there and watched with amazement at the flawless combination of physical attack and alchemy, defense and offense, each boy taking the other's attack in stride. It was almost like music, watching them spar. At least he assumed they were sparring. He had never actually seen them _fight_ before.

* * *

Ed sighed. He knew that there was no point in even trying; he was going to lose to his younger brother anyway. Without his automail arm now, he had nothing to protect him like he had before. He wasn't about to give up so easily, though. This was payback, as Al was _still_ taller than him, despite being the younger of the two.

Al looked at the destruction that was the surrounding area.

"Brother…." He began, but was cut off when he had to block an attack.

"Brother!" He repeated a little more forcefully to make him listen.

"What?" Ed was annoyed; he had been stopped mid attack.

"Umn… I'd think we'd better call this a draw…" He saw Ed look out into the sea of destruction.

"E heh heh… yeah…" Ed scratched his head innocently.

Mustang had left the scene of devastation to try and organize someone to remodel part of the east wing too. He shook his head sadly.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ed and Al had found their old dorm where and how they had left it. Ed's bed was still covered in stacks and stacks of books. He flung them all onto the floor and flopped down onto his bed. _Guess we won't be needing those anymore…_ It was a pleasant feeling. The first feeling that he had gotten in a while that wasn't guilt or regret, actually.

Even though it was the middle of the day, the two boys fell asleep quickly. When Al woke up it was dark. He looked at Ed, who was snoring and drooling slightly. He started to mumble in his sleep. And he _still_ slept with his stomach exposed. There were just some habits that you never grew out of, Al supposed.

He walked out onto the stairs under the blanket of stars laid out for him to see. He gazed upwards and began to think back to that day when they had been sitting here, in this very spot in the pouring rain. He choked back his tears. Even with all the things that they had done, they still hadn't been able to save countless people. All the good that they had spread, one act of hatred was enough to offset it.

It was pointless to think of such things. What was said was said; what was done was gone and over with. There had never been any _time_ for regrets before, and now.. now he was left with a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he tried painfully to ignore.

What they had gone through to get their bodies back… he never wanted to think about it again. He was determined to never regret any of his actions, but he couldn't ignore the emptiness that he felt inside. He almost wished that he was still bound to his suit of armor, rather than to have this feeling. Almost. At least now he could cry freely.

* * *

Ed wokegroggily, and the first thing that he had noticed was that Al was missing. He grabbed his jacket and ran out the door; he knew that he was a little overprotective, but Al was the only brother he was ever going to have. He dashed down the hallway, and came to the stairs outside the entrance. He stopped abruptly, seeing the dark shadowed figure of his brother, hunched over on the stairs. All he could hear was the sound of tears… tears… he hated seeing his bother suffer. He started to regret making his brother cry, to regret making him able to cry, but forced the thought from his mind. All he could do was stand there under the stars and the inviting cover of darkness and watch his younger sibling from a distance.

* * *

owari

'Taters


	3. Just Two Normal People

**Just Two Normal People...**

RoyEd Just a little bit of fluff...

* * *

The best part about sending FullMetal away on assignments was the look on his face as the train pulled up to the station and he spotted him standing there, waiting. Sometimes it took him a while to find him, as Roy was oddly inconspicuous when not wearing his military uniform. For those few brief minutes they were just two normal people. Not a colonel and a major, dogs of the military, human weapons, or even alchemists. Just two regular, ordinary people.

Roy leaned against a lamppost waiting idly for the train to pull in. After about 45 minutes of standing there, he began to get tired of standing, so he sat down on a nearby bench.

The train rolled lethargically up to a complete stop, and Roy looked up and checked his watch. This was definitely his train, 3:45, right on time. He stood up and arched his neck over other people's heads, trying to get a look through several windows. Just barely sticking out over one of the windows was a small piece of yellow hair; there was only one person that could possibly be that short. Roy smiled; this was one of the few, genuine smiles that he had.

As always, Ed walked off the train and took a few moments to spot him. He caught sight of the man, who looked strangely unfamiliar in a civilian outfit.

"Oi!" he yelled in Roy's general direction, and waved, just to make sure that it was actually Roy. He didn't know what he would do if he had just walked up to some random person.

This was one of the few times that Ed didn't mind being seen in public with Roy. It was a crowded, busy place, and no one would recognize them unless they were specifically looking for them. Sometimes Ed would even pull his braid out so that he would look more like a girl. For some reason he still hadn't gotten over being seen with another guy, and although he wouldn't admit it, this hurt Roy slightly for some reason.

"Roy!" Ed bounded up to him excitedly and planted a kiss on his cheek. Roy smiled affectionately, and then both of them reverted back to their normal personalities. Edward began ranting on all the perfectly horrible things that had happened to him in his absence, and Roy nodded occasionally, pretending to listen.

"Mmhmm.. that's nice.." Roy said absent-mindedly while Ed was griping about how the food on the train was crap.

Ed stopped at that comment.

"You're not even listening to me!" he yelled at him. "Do you even know what I was saying?"

"I know exactly what you were saying. You were griping and complaining about god-knows-what, and honestly, I don't really care."

"Fine." Ed pouted. "Then what oh-so-interesting things happened to _you _while I was gone?" he replied sharply and sarcastically.

"Well… nothing really. Paperwork, paperwork, promotion, oh! And more paperwork. The usual."

A sudden, cold wind blew down the street that they were walking on. Roy almost shivered, but kept on walking. He zoned out a little and pulled his arms in a little closer to him.

"…otion! So what rank does that make you now?" was what Roy heard as his hearing returned to him.

"Roy?" Ed paused. "Are you alright?" He had a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah… I'm fine… just a little cold…" He pulled Ed closer to him, and Ed really couldn't say that he minded, but how could Roy be cold on a day like this? It was 70 degrees on a sunny day in March.

Ed didn't sweat the details. It felt nice being so close to Roy, and he put his head down onto his shoulder. They walked for a long while in silence, enjoying the peace they could have by being two normal people for once… two normal people…

* * *

He opened his eyes, and found himself in his office. H-how did he get here? He lifted his head off of the desk to see a familiar shape in front of him. 

_Ah! My watch!_

It shined in the barest sliver of moonlight that had forced its way into the room. He traced the smooth, metallic circular shape that was so familiar, and managed to get it open after a few tries to check the time.

11:13?

Judging by the darkness that surrounded him, it was night.

His eyes had just caught a glance of something that he hadn't noticed was on the inside of his watch before when the door opened and a familiar shape loomed in the doorway.

It was Riza. In civilian clothing. With a peculiar expression on her face that Roy had never seen before.

"We found you asleep, shivering on one of the benches at the station…. And we couldn't get into your house… so we brought you here…" she looked like she was on the verge of tears – definitely not an expression one saw from the First Lieutenant every day.

He looked back to the interesting engraving in the pocket-watch. His features were struck with horror when he saw what was written. He closed the watch slowly and set it down near the front edge of his desk.

He tried to keep himself from collapsing into an emotional breakdown, but he wasn't going to fool anyone. He put his head in his hands and looked at the watch, trying to cover up the steady flow of tears from god-knows-what. He felt the wetness on his lips and tasted the bitter salt of his tears. Drops stained the immaculate paperwork beneath him.

It had never occurred to him that if he sent FullMetal out on an assignment, that he might not come back.

Riza just stood there, unable to think of anything that she could do to try and comfort him. He was alone, for the first time in his life, and she couldn't do a thing about it.

It was just two simple lines of text.

_Don't Forget_

_3.Oct.11._

_

* * *

_

...and a helluvalotta angst...!

I cried when I was typing this. My nose is still kinda sniffly... How is it that I can kill Ed so easily, but I haven't managed to kill Roy yet? Yet. I can't belive I just said that!

'Taters


	4. Silhouette

**Silhouette**

More Roy torture... poor bastard... I should really lay off the Royai angst for a little bit, let someone else share in the fun...

* * *

He had been acting strangely the last few days. Muttering to himself, reminiscing over old photos, occasionally crying a few tears when he thought no one was looking. The rain was surely just a coincidence. Rain couldn't send such a strong person into an abysmal fit of depression like that. It just wasn't _like_ him.

He tried to act like there was nothing wrong, tossing out the occasional insult, smirking the smirk, just going through the motions of a regular day. To anyone that knew him, really _knew_ him, it was obvious, but otherwise, it was tough telling his emotions apart from any other emotion he claimed to have.

He needed some air. If he didn't go outside soon, he felt like he was going to explode. Scratch that. _He _wasn't going to explode, but some unwitting object in his proximity would. As he walked out onto the street he couldn't notice the happy buzz and chatter of all the people around him, which made him feel even more selfish and self-centered.

_How do all these people just manage to get over everything?_

He whispered something softly to himself, but it was lost in the crowd, so that no one would ever hear what he had said. Looking at the cracked pavement, he couldn't help but think of painful memories of times that seemed so distant, just out of his reach.

He randomly picked a direction and began to wander, lost absent-mindedly in thought, drifting down from shop to shop. He came across the window display of a shop that sold silverware. Knives. Roy could have sworn that at that very moment the breeze began to bite, as if talking to him.

"_I'm still here…_" It seemed to say.

There was just a _feeling_, an aura that surrounded him, that made him feel like that idiot was still standing next to him, grinning like a fool. He looked into the glass surrounding the window display and saw the silhouetted image of him slowly fade back to wind. He would never see that face again…

The next day, she saw him cheer up considerably. Riza wondered whether he was really over whatever it was he was depressed about, or if he had just found a new way to conceal his emotions. Interestingly enough, it had stopped raining last evening. She saw Mustang shed a single solitary tear, and she suddenly understood.

It had been a year, and for Colonel Roy Mustang, it was still raining.

* * *

I just love picking on Roy... :grin:

'Taters


	5. Not Today

**Not Today...**

A sequel to "Silhouette" and "Just Two Normal People..."

... kind of... there will most likely be another few chapters following this storyline, mainly because I have half of it written already...

_Warnings:_

Major Angst. Suicide Refrences. Spoilers for Ep. 25.

Slight RoyEd mostly andsorta RoyHughes if you squint really really hard.

* * *

"I know he's out there somewhere…" 

He was _convinced_ that the shorty hadn't died on him. More like, in denial.

How was it that FullMetal could go missing for more than six months, even with Roy's extensive network of informants? It was bugging him.

"Brat…" he said under his voice while shuffling through the latest stack of papers.

"Boss…" Havoc's voice trailed off.

He considered whether or not what he was going to say was going to get him burned alive or not.

"Boss… I think…. I think… I think we should just… we should just… just give it up…." His voice wavered at what he was suggesting.

Roy shook his head sadly.

"I… I guess…. I guess so…"

It was a side of Roy that he had only seen after Hughes' death. As usual, Roy immediately tried to cover it up with he usual veneer of anger, irritation and indifference.

"You would have thought that brat would have at least sent us a damn letter or _something_…" He laughed half-heartedly.

Allthat was left to assume was that they, or at least FullMetal, was dead. Gone. Forever. Hopefully Al would have at least enough sense to come back to Central.

* * *

He shooed the others out of the room; they weren't making things any easier. He pulled open a smaller drawer in his desk, and spread its contents out. Photos. Roy would die before admitting that he owned a photo album. 

…Just random snapshots of his life over the last few years. He flipped through them.

Black Hayate; Hughes acting like an idiot; Riza scaring the shit out of someone; FullMetal in a full rage, and Al standing there in a futile attempt to and restrain him from killing someone; Havoc casually smoking right next to a "No Smoking" sign.

Damn, he felt like Hughes with all the pictures.

Hughes…

He stared at the other contents of the drawer, and they gleamed in the sunlight. He picked up his last memento of the man, and ran his finger down the edge of the blade. He reached the point and his finger slipped and bled a little.

Putting the instrument down, he pulled out a glove and picked up a photo. He realized too late that he had just stained his glove a sharp contrasting red color from the blood.

* * *

Roy watched as the flame slowly but hungrily consumed the image. His life, burning away before his eyes. Where he was going, there would be no need for painful memories of the past. 

The picture disappeared into a pile of ashes on his desk, and he clutched the other object from the drawer in his ungloved hand. He traced the edge of the watch, and his hands began to shake. Dropping it to the floor suddenly, he glanced back at the throwing knife on his desk. He picked it up by the handle and stared at it for a moment.

He briefly wondered what it was like to die.

Would it be painful? What would happen once he was dead? Would he finally see the two of the most important people in his life again?

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, thinking for once about what would happen to all of the other people that depended on him.

_No…_

He picked the watch up from off the floor and placed it, the knife and the remaining photos back into the drawer, and closed it firmly, like there was some horrible monster hiding in the drawer.

He considered that for a moment. That drawer was full of monsters. His monsters; the monsters that continued to haunt him to this day; the monsters that would be with him forever, constantly reminding him of his sins.

_No…. Not today…_

* * *

He got up and walked silently out of the room, and made for the front doors. He needed a break, desperately. 

_You know, I bet he's too stubborn to die…_

The crisp January air bit at his face when he opened the door.

He stopped himself. Who was he fooling? No one had seen him, or his brother, for half a year. And the Elrics didn't exactly blend in with the crowd.

He was so enveloped in his train of thought that he almost didn't notice the infamous face in the crowd. No one else in Central had dark skin and red eyes with an 'X' on their forehead, he was pretty sure. Roy barely had time to react and quickly pull out his glove in self-defense before he went unconscious.

His last thought and wish had been, "Kill, me, please."

* * *

Did I just kill Roy? Mebbe. Don't shoot me. You knew this was coming. 

Just have faith in me when I say that he's only "mostly dead". And we all know that mostly dead is completley different from all dead.

...Taters...


	6. Red

**"Red"**

Okay... the last chapter of this storyline... you will see why later. I just decided to finish it off.

**Warning:**  
Serious Major Angst. Seriously don't read if you don't feel like crying. I know I did.

Kind of RoyRiza but also kind of RoyEd.

* * *

"AL!"

Ed was pissed, as usual.

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY WATCH?"

He searched all of his pockets frantically.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

He sighed and gave up after a few minutes, and began to walk again.

_Damn! Must have lost it in that fire…_

Which by the way was _not_ in any way shape or form set or enabled by him... _(A/N: Sarcasm…)_

It had been necessary though, and one warehouse was a pretty small thing to give up in exchange for a whole town not being smashed to bits. Of course, it was entirely_ his _fault, though. He groaned at the thought of the townspeople.

_Damn ingrates! I save them from being some damned chimera's lunch and they kick us out of their town, which wouldn't even **exist** anymore if I hadn't been there…_

Some people just didn't know how good they had it. Granted, that warehouse was their only source of income for the rest of the year…but life was more important than money, right? He sighed, and wondered just why exactly they had to go back to Central.

Getting back to Central was always a hassle, for some reason or another. Maybe if he just hid out here a little longer, they would forget about him…

* * *

As they approached the train station, they could barely make out the time and date above the entrance. They had been training in the south for a while, but had no real perception of time without any calendar. They _could_ have used Ed's watch to count off days, but it had just occurred to them that they could have done that when Edward noticed that the watch was missing.

It was almost 12:30 in the afternoon, and they would need to hurry if they were to get to the station and buy their tickets on time. As they came closer, Edward could make out the date, although it was a little fuzzy. What was it……? He could hardly tell.

It started with a 'J'… July?

So it _had_ been less than a month. It sure had felt longer than that.

_Wait. No…._

He almost fell over when he read the month.

JANUARY? 

"You've… got… to be kidding me!"

The sign clearly stated that it was 12:38 on January the 21st. He paused for a moment and counted out the months on his fingers. His hands shook slightly.

_Have we really been gone…. For six months?_

He hadn't really noticed the change in seasons, after all, if you went far enough south, it was pretty much hot all the time, year round.

Six Months! 

He refused to believe it. Six months… He wondered vaguely if anyone in Central was worried about their absence. He cringed at the thought of all the paperwork that Hawkeye would have stacked on top of his desk. Hopefully he could get away with not filling most of it out.

* * *

Hopefully, the train ride would be uneventful. The last few times he had to get on a damned train, it was hijacked, derailed, and once, Al-as-cargo was taken off at the wrong stop. He bitterly wondered what was going to happen this time. It was going to be a long couple of days on that damned train…

The train uneventfully pulled into Central some days later. When they got off the train, they expected to be greeted by some military personnel or something, but then again, how was the military to know that they were getting back today? It had been a while since Ed bothered to make a phone call to Central.

He flung his suitcase over his shoulder and proceeded to walk towards the exit, starting the long haul to the complex. Unfortunately, since no one knew they were coming, there was no nice, cozy car waiting to drive them back to the building.

It was getting to be past twilight, and the sun was setting, making the sky glow with pale colors of pink and orange. It had been a long, arduous journey all the way across the city.

Well, not really. Ed liked to exaggerate. In reality, it had only been a casual hour or so of peaceful, uneventful walking, save the few odd glances that Al had received from passing strangers.

* * *

Trying as inconspicuously as possible to get into the residences on base, they stealthily made it down the hallway to their old room._Home…_

He looked around nostalgically. Everything was just as he had left it.

_Is this really home…?_

He dropped his bags, and they fell onto the floor in a messy heap. Right now it felt like he could sleep for a million years and never wake up.

Flopping down on the bed, he put a hand to his stomach. He felt it rumble and heard it make somewhat disgusting sounds. It was then that he realized that he was starving. Sleep would have to wait for a few hours. He went out in search of food.

Edward walked down the hallway towards the cafeteria. It had only just gotten dark about an hour ago, well, he really didn't know because his watch was missing, but he was sure that there must be _something_ left over from dinner. Hopefully, he wouldn't get stopped by that Colonel with a god-complex on the way there.

Turning out into the main area of the building, he came across an obviously disheveled woman in uniform. Edward sighed for a second in relief that it wasn't Mustang before he got a closer look at her peculiar appearance.

Her hair was down, and you could tell by the slight stains on her face that she had been crying. The uniform was askew, and she made no attempts to fix it.

He saw her mouth the words, "Oh God." Before she turned and ran. Edward didn't know what had come over him, but he felt compelled to follow her, and he did before he had time to stop himself. She was headed toward the… hospital wing?

* * *

Trying to follow her through the winding labyrinth of hallways was more tiring than he expected, plus he was already tired and hungry. He was about to give up when he heard voices coming from a room a little further down the hall. He was nosy, and couldn't help but approach the doorway.

"Colonel… a-are you awake…? Mustang….?" She gulped audibly.

"…Roy…?"

He heard the click of a gun and Ed silently hit his head against the wall.

Duh! How could he not have realized who she was when he saw her? Riza really looked different with her hair down and glasses on though.

_Waitasecond…. _

He burst into the room without thinking. There was something not right with this picture.

Hawkeye never cried.

Mustang never got hurt.

And Edward had never felt this horrible in his life.

But sure enough, there was Riza, not even trying to hide her tears, Mustang in a hospital bed, and Edward having a weird choking feeling in his throat, like he wanted to cry or scream or something.

"He… he drifts in and out…" Riza managed to say choking in between the tears.

As if reading his mind, she continued. "He's been… like this… for almost… two weeks now…" Her efforts at holding back the tears were not working.

While they were talking, Roy managed to gain a semi-conscious state. They turned around quickly, and Riza rushed to his side. He turned his head to look at Edward, his gaze weak and eyes only half-open.

"Red…" was the only thing that he said.

It didn't quite come out like he had wanted it to. What he had actually meant to say was, "Welcome back, Little Red Riding Hood." but only the word 'Red' had managed to escape his lips.

They both assumed that he was referring to the color of his jacket, but they didn't really know. Roy was really out of it, to be putting it lightly. More like teetering on the line between life and death.

Suddenly out of nowhere, he said another random word. "Postcard…"

Again, what he had thought hadn't matched what he had said. He had _wanted_ to say, "You could've at least dropped us a postcard, shorty.". He was supposed to be sarcastic, condescending, not so weak he could only say one word at a time.

If Roy were just a little more aware of himself, he would have been incredibly embarrassed at the thought of anyone seeing him so… weak like this. He tried with all of his might, which was not that much at his current state, to at least sit up. He couldn't figure it out, but for some reason it tired him out immensely. He fought to stay conscious.

_No… don't… sleep… so… tired…stay…awake…not…tired…not...tir-_

He managed to say one more word before his head fell back against the pillow and he drifted out of consciousness.

"Scar…." He said, hoping that Edward would interpret it as "Scar did this to me, so go out and kick his ass for me, wouldn't you? You, too, Hawkeye."

Riza thought about this. If Scar had really done this, wouldn't he be dead already? Like Tucker or Nina or Gran… She tried not to think about all the people that had been lost to him. Not Roy too…..

* * *

She glanced at Ed, who was already plotting. He grinned, transmuted his arm, and ran out the door. Hawkeye had a pretty good idea of where he was going… she wasn't going to follow. She sat down in the chair by Roy's side and held his hand.

Several hours later, Edward staggered back to his room. His vengeful Scar-hunting had not gone well. He had wasted time running around the city in hysterics trying to find that bastard and severely hurt him. More than likely, if he had run into him, he was going to be the one severely hurt.

Vengeance just wasn't his thing. It put him down to Scar's level. Hadn't he himself asked why we couldn't just be content and live while we could?

Before he collapsed from lack of sleep, he decided to check in at the hospital wing again with Hawkeye.

* * *

Hawkeye was lost in thought, and the steady _beep-beep_ of the heart-monitor thing was slowly lulling her to sleep. She almost didn't notice when the comforting sounds stopped.

The warmth faded from his hand, and the color from his face. She looked up with horror and watched as his breathing slowed, and she put her head on his chest. The slow rising and falling motion stopped, and he exhaled slowly, one last time.

It took a moment for the implications of the moment to sink in, and only when she heard the steady, unwavering beep did she finally grasp the gravity of the situation. She tried to move, but it felt as if her head was a huge weight that refused to move. All she could do was bury her head in the covers and cry.

It was at that moment that Edward threw back the door. He heard the steady sound, and saw Riza, collapsed into Mustang's chest.

_No… No..!_

His face was paler than usual, and he noticed that his chest was not moving up and down like it should.

He tried to scream, but instead ran from the room, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. He ran at a breakneck sprint speed all the way back to the dorms on the other side of the building. Slamming the door shut, he leaned against it and exhaled deeply. Tears were streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably, soaking his gloves and parts of his jacket, some landing on his boots.

* * *

What he needed was something that would calm him down a little. Somewhere warm, where he could relax and think. Or try not to think. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water for the bathtub. It was only on the rare occasion that he ever took a bath. Showers were quicker and more efficient, but right now, he couldn't give a damn about actually getting clean. A bath was a perfect place to wallow in his own guilt, doubt, self-pity, sorrow, grief, and angst if there ever was one.

Sitting, soaking in the water, a thought provoked his mind. What was it like to die? You would never know until you did, and once you did, it's not like you could tell anyone how it felt. He wondered if there was some kind of afterlife or something. Just where did all the dead people go? Sure, their bodies were buried or cremated or burned or just left to rot, but what about someone's soul?

Normally, Ed wasn't one to think about all of that metaphysical philosophical crap, but the at the moment he couldn't help but wonder. Would it hurt? Could he see his mother onemore time? Would he find his friends there? Was death just the end, or the beginning?

His thoughts took a more morbid turn. What did he have to live for, now, anyway? Here he was, a half-metal teenager with a suit of armor for a brother. He had sacrificed everything to bring someone back to life who he wasn't even sure was his mother. His father had left them years ago. It just a matter of time before the whole country collapsed. Hughes was dead, now Roy too. More of his friends and comrades were bound to die every day. Vengeance begot vengeance, the hatred only spawning more and more hatred. The world was morally corrupt, and what could he, a short, insignificant, ignorant, half-metal _child_ do about it?

Nothing, he realized. Absolutely nothing. Nothing that he thought, said or did could change anything. Nothing and anything at all. Worthless…

He returned to his original thought as he slid his head slowly and silently under the surface of the water.

What _was_ it like to die?

He felt that now was just as damn good a time as ever to find out.

* * *

... no comment

...'Taters?...


	7. Shave

**Chapter 7: Shave**

* * *

It wasn't as if he had wanted to shave in the restroom at the complex, but there had been no _time_ before. He had gone through hell and back again by means of paperwork the night before, until almost midnight, and had (surprise, surprise) woken up late this morning.

Damn facial hair. It was his fault though, he had wanted it. Hah. Makes me look distinguished, my ass! Now he was eternally shaving his face, trying not to look like an escaped convict with a five-day growth of stubble.

The razor ran smoothly and gently down the side of his face, when it suddenly got caught on his skin. For a brief moment there was some small amount of fleeting pain, but the blade continued down his cheek. It cut his face again. He could see a small amount of blood beginning to seep out of the wound.

He should have changed the blade then and there, but didn't. Perhaps it was his subconscious trying to tell him something? It cut the other side of his face worse, failing to get rid of the hair, succeeding only in making the area around his chin and mouth a mixture of foamy white shaving cream and red blood, swirling, intermixing, seeping into the cuts, stinging slightly when they combined.

The razor found its way back to his face, ready to shave the next section of skin. He pressed it harder and harder into his skin, not knowing why. Stuck in a trance like state for a few moments, he snapped out of it when he saw the sink, covered in white foam, and red droplets, swirling with water down, down, down the drain, as if it was his atonement. All of his sins, simply sloshing down the empty drain of his life.

Tossing the disposable razor into the trash, he reached for another one, and watched the light dance on the metal. He set it back carefully, not trusting himself with it again. Taking a small washcloth, he patted his face dry, stinging all the while, and trudged off to his office. No one that wanted to live asked him what had happened to his face.

* * *

I have no idea what new kind of crack I am on... but it's making me do some pretty wierd stuff... (see above ramble)

Oh, yes, and in the last storyline, I _am _implying that Ed drowns himself in the bathtub, just in case I wasn't blunt enough for you.

'Taters


End file.
